


dicks out for conditioning drills

by Itgoeson



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Communication, F/F, Friendship is what's gonna save us all and I'm not sorry about that, Gender or Sex Swap, Lesbians, Softball Jokes, Trans Character, You're Welcome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-02-07 23:44:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12852072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itgoeson/pseuds/Itgoeson
Summary: “Oh,” Suga squeaks, then clears her throat. “Hi. I’m Suga. I just wanted to say that your outfit is amazing.”It looks like she laughs. It’s too loud, but her shoulders shake slightly and she grins. “I’m Daichi. Thanks.”They look at each other for a second, and Suga tries to get her brain through the buzzing.It doesn’t work. They keep looking at each other.





	1. First Meetings

The bass thrums through her muscles, heating her up, the swell of grinding bodies and frustrations warming her up after the chill of the line outside. Suga rolls her eyes at Oikawa, who winks at her and slips off to pester another friend from class. She’d be annoyed, but she had known that Oikawa had had an awful week. She’d be surprised if Oikawa came to her apartment tonight, or alone even if she did. Either way, she’d enjoy herself without Suga.

Still, they’d finished midterms, and Suga wanted to flirt with someone enough to get free drinks. If the night went well, she’d leave tipsy, with kiss-bruised lips, and go back to her soft bed and Friday night face mask ritual. 

She’s just gotten to the bar, smiling as someone leans in to whisper in her ear — a guy, it was always a guy, and she could kiss with the best of them but Jesus, tonight she just wanted to have fun and go home. So Suga leans back and flashes a smile, tipping her head in interest when he introduces himself.

He’s pretty enough, she thinks. A solid jaw, solid shoulders. She could see ten of him in a day, and she doesn’t mind, but it’s harder than usual to pretend to be interested tonight. She lets her eyes slide past him, still nodding and smiling, but glancing around out of boredom until —

Her stomach catches on fire and Suga knows this woman is just another woman, human and probably friendly enough but at the end of the day probably straight and probably not interested in her even if she isn’t but. Her mind just scratches, clogs. Wheels. She licks her lips and swallows. The man in front of Suga shifts forward and asks something. Suga kind of pointedly doesn’t pay attention, just flashes him a smile and a peace sign. “Just saw a friend,” she shouts. “Have to go!”

From there, it’s a frustrating stalk towards the woman. But now she can’t stop looking, and she’s starting to worry that she’ll be creepy.

Is this creepy?

Suga squares her shoulders and stops a foot away from the woman, who’d looked down at her phone sometime during her walk over.

She’s got military-short black hair, a strong chin, and her skinny jeans are clinging to bulky thighs and ridiculous calves. Suga absentmindedly wonders how much she could bench press. It’s gotta be more than Suga weighs. She wonders what the woman would sound like gasping her name, and the thought makes her skittish. 

She’s not attracted to people often. 

“Hello?”

The woman looks up and oh, no, this is bad. 

She’s got on a deep pink lipstick, and her smoky eye is dark but perfectly blended, the way she’s only seen on Oikawa in real life before, winged eyeliner and contour that picks up the soft shape of her cheekbones.

“Oh,” Suga squeaks, then clears her throat. “Hi. I’m Suga. I just wanted to say that your outfit is amazing.”

It looks like she laughs. It’s too loud, but her shoulders shake slightly and she grins. “I’m Daichi. Thanks.”

They look at each other for a second, and Suga tries to get her brain through the buzzing. 

It doesn’t work. They keep looking at each other.

“So . . . who’d you come here with tonight?”

“No one!” Suga shouts. It’s. Too desperate. She backtracks desperately and smiles. “Well, my friend, Tooru. She’s out dancing though. You?”

“My friends. I’m the designated driver tonight. Stocking up on orange juice.” Daichi tips her head towards her drink and grins. 

“Ah, smart. I was planning on getting someone to buy me drinks and then going home to study.” Suga blinks at Daichi. That was too much.

But Daichi just laughs, a little wryly, maybe. “That’s a good plan. Any luck?”

“Almost, but I saw you here.”

“Oh. You want me to buy you a drink?”

Suga blushes. “Oh, no! No, that’s fine. That would be incredibly forward.”

She taps at her orange juice, and Suga still can’t look away. “Ah, well, I won’t keep you then,” she says, barely audible over the music. 

“Please do.”

Suga looks like a freak. She knows this, and she can’t stop. So she tries again. “I mean, if you don’t want to drink, I can stay here with you. I’m sure guys have been hitting on you all night, trying to buy you drinks.”

Daichi hesitates, looking conflicted, so Suga just keeps talking. “I can take the drinks, if you want. Or flirt with them to distract them! I am . . . very good at flirting with men. It’s a finely-honed talent.”

A look flits across her face, half appalled and half amused. “You make it sound like a chore.”

She shrugs, not wanting to try to inject a “no homo” into the conversation. Mostly because she is very much homo. Particularly in view of Daichi’s laugh, which she can finally hear. They’ve gotten closer, and she sounds husky, deep-voiced and warm. Suga is melting. 

“But if you’re looking for free drinks, you’re probably better on your own. You’re gorgeous, and I’m not particularly what most men look for.”

Suga spares a second to despise society for making it okay for women to call each other gorgeous without it being gay. Is that a signal, or Daichi being nice? How do things like this even go?

She shakes herself out of her frustration and waves a hand. “Ridiculous, you’re the pretty one here.”

Daichi sips at her orange juice and ducks her head. “Uh. If you wanted. There’s a coffee place across the street. I could go for some tea if you wanted? It’s noisy in here. Hard to hear.”

Suga widens her eyes and nods earnestly. “Yes, please! I could always go for coffee. It’s a new place, right? I keep telling Iwazumi to go there with me but she just keeps telling me to drink less coffee,” she pouts. 

They leave in mostly-silence, Daichi putting a hand on the small of her back occasionally to stay together as they duck through the crowd. Suga’s hands are sweaty, but so is the rest of her. She can probably keep blaming it on the heat for a little bit, at least until they get outside. 

Then, a wall of cold hits them, and Suga screams quietly. 

Daichi jumps, startled, and whips her head around. “You alright?”

“Fine,” she says, jumping up and down, “it’s just freezing out here.”

She makes eye contact and moves in, slinging an arm around Suga’s shoulders. The woman is a heat blaster. It’s bliss. 

“Thank you.”

“Any time,” Daichi says, tugging them along across the street. She almost runs into a pole, staring at Suga. They both laugh, sides pressed up against one another. 

“Is there a reason you haven’t looked away from me?” she asks, holding the door open for Daichi.

They bump shoulders. “You just. Look like royalty, out there. Like Elsa, a little bit.” She flushes bright red, and it’s maybe the ugliest blush Suga’s ever seen, blotchy and uneven. Her heart pulses in her throat and her palms are so damp — distantly, she realizes that’s really not the only part of her that’s damp right now. Suga’s torn between wanting to fuck her and hug her. Neither feel appropriate for someone she’s just met, so she leads the way to the counter instead.

The barista asks them for their orders, interrupting whatever else Daichi might have had to say. Daichi insists on paying. “You wanted free drinks,” she explains. “It’s the least I could do.”

They settle down at the back of the shop, waiting on their drinks, and she fiddles with her phone. 

** To: dicks out for conditioning drills **

** Left. Let me know when you need me. **

“So what do you do, Miss Daichi?” Suga leans forward, resting her chin in her hand. 

“Studying, actually. And, uhm. Playing volleyball, actually.”

“Ah, that explains the nails.”

“Hm?”

Suga laughs. “Your nails are orange. It’s an amazing color on you—” she knows, because she’s had to stop herself from thinking about them sliding into her, orange fingernails trimmed short, broad fingers, slicking into her, over her clit. Suga is really, really trying to keep calm, here, but she’s feeling a lot. It’s as uncomfortable as it is exciting. “But uncommon. Do you play with Oikawa? I haven’t seen you at the games.”

“Oh. Um. Oikawa is the women’s team captain?”

“Yeah, do you play intramurals then . . .” Suga trails off, uncertain. She’s made something awkward, and she’s not quite sure how to fix it. Daichi looks uncomfortable, though, shifting uneasily. 

“I should go,” she blurts out, nervously tipping her cup from side to side and pushing her chair back.

“Wait!” Suga goes to grab her wrist, stopping a couple inches before contact. Daichi stills anyway. “Wait, please. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want, we can drop it. Whatever it is. If you’re lying about volleyball, or something. It’s fine.”

Her shoulders slump. “I. Would appreciate that, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Suga smiles. “Yeah. What’re you studying?”

“Agriculture, actually. My grandparents have a farm. I grew up on it. Fell in love, I guess. You?”

“Premed, a double major in biology and psychology.”

“Oh, that’s hard to do, isn’t it? Crossing over between colleges?”

She shrugs. “Not much else to do. I played volleyball all through high school. It’s how I know Oikawa, actually, and why we were roommates first year. But I wasn’t good enough to play in college, so I decided to focus on school and work.”

“Where do you work?”

“I’m an RA, actually, so I live in the dorms still.”

“Catching kids doing things they shouldn’t? How do you like it?”

Suga beams. “I don’t do a ton of that, actually. Or, well, sometimes. Mostly I’m on call and have to stay in the building a lot. I put on programs and decorate the halls, check in with people, talk to them. It’s an odd job, honestly. A little hard to explain how it takes so much time. But it’s great, last week — you know what. I’m talking a lot. What about you?”

“No, you’re not. You’re not at all.” Daichi smiles and glances down at her phone, surprised when it starts angrily buzzing. “Groupchat, sorry, my friends are a mess.”

“They always are. Go ahead and check it.”

** From: KuRude **

** dude, u getting some? **

** From: BoCute **

** bruh. nice!!  **

** From: KuRude **

** she cute? **

** From: BoCute **

** when does dadchi ever go out w a girl **

** of course she’s cute **

** or he **

** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  **

** From: KuRude **

** forreal  **

** sorry for questioning it **

** get some my dude **

** From: would die for at least 3 pokemon **

** cn u all lay tf off and go to sleep? or wtf else you do when not fucking up my game w yr groupme **

** From: KuRude **

** sry bae. u rite. **

** To: dicks out for conditioning drills **

** Sry Kenma. Didn’t want to make a new group. **

** From: would die for at least 3 pokemon **

** u fine. tell them to fuck off tho. **

** To: dicks out for conditioning drills **

** Fuck off guys **

“Sorry,” Daichi says, tapping off a message and shaking her head. “The guys are idiots.”

“The guys?”

“That I came with tonight. We’re . . .”

She trails off as her phone lights up with another message. “Dicks out for conditioning drills?” Suga reads aloud, not bothering to stifle her laugh. “That’s beautiful.”

Daichi rolls her eyes. “Idiots.”

“Mine’s ‘x files anonymous’ if that helps,” she offers.

That gets a laugh. “Why?”

“The memes, mostly. Oikawa believes in aliens. I want to believe, and also, well. It’s a little bit of an inside joke. I’ve got weirdly long fingers. Oikawa has a flash drive with just a super long powerpoint on all the ways I’m a cryptid. It’s got blurry pictures of me and everything.”

“I feel better now.”

“You should! Iwazumi tries to leave at least once a week. Akaashi and Yachi always add her back. Shimizu mostly just sends random blurry photos of us to the group when she sees us on campus but we don’t see her.”

“Much better,” she laughs. It makes something glow in Suga’s stomach. 

“What about yours?”

“Practice, complaining about exams. Video games.”   
“I’ve never been able to get into them too much. You should probably check that,” Suga notes, nodding at Daichi’s phone, which is buzzing again. 

“Ah, yes. Probably.”

** From: BoCute **

** not fair :(  **

** From: KuRude **

**. . . we deserved that **

**. . . . . . is it rude **

**. . . . . . . .to ask u to pick us up now **

** theoretically **

** From: BoCute **

** it is **

** but we neeeeeed u **

** now  **

** To: dicks out for conditioning drills **

** why. **

** From: KuRude **

** Brokuto **

** ran into an ex **

** currently dead inside. u remember the one w the hair? she’s here. probably still angry.  **

** i don’t blame her. but i Fear her. **

** From: would die for at least 3 pokemon **

** The Only Thing You Have To Fear Is Me When Your Dumb Asses Get Back Here **

** f u c k  o f f **

** p l s **

** To: dicks out for conditioning drills **

** Ye, give me a min or 10 **

** From: BoCute **

** oooohhhhhhhh~~~  **

** ‘volleyball is too spicy’ has removed ‘BoCute’ from the group. **

“I’m so, so sorry. I’ve got to go.”

“The idiots?”

“The idiots. But it was nice getting coffee with you.”

“It could be nice again sometime,” Suga says, meeting her eyes and refusing to blush. Fantasies aside, Daichi seems lovely. She wants to see if this will go anywhere, friendship or something else. 

Daichi is getting up, gathering her things, but she pauses. “I. Yeah, I’d like that. If that’s okay. Here, here’s my phone. You can put your number in, if that’s okay?”

“Perfect. And who knows,” she mutters distractedly, “I might just see you around campus.”

“Hah, right.” She shuffles, and Suga feels a little like she’s said the wrong thing again. “I should go pick them up. Do you want a ride back too? Kenma still lives in the halls, so Kuroo will probably want to be dropped off there anyway.”

“Kozume Kenma? He lives in my hall! On my floor, actually. 305C. Great kid.” She pauses, smiling shyly. “Sorry, kind of a reflex. But that is him, right?”

“Yeah, yeah it is. You in?”

“I’d love that, actually, if that’s okay.”

They go back across the street, around a few more buildings to get back to where Daichi’s parked. “You might know Kuroo, then. He’s always around Kenma.”

“Taller than me, spiky hair, half-feral grin?”

“Surprisingly accurate.”

“Are he and Kenma dating? Not that you have to answer.”

Daichi looks at her out of the corner of her eye and wraps an arm around her again. “It’s still cold out,” she says by way of explanation. “You look cold. And, uh, unclear. I’m not really sure. Maybe?”

“Makes sense. They seem like good friends, but I don’t really know them all that well.”

“You might know them better after tonight. They’re raising hell on the groupchat right now,” she says, shaking her head. “Why do college students never sleep.”

Suga makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, scrunching her nose. “I ask myself this all the time.” They walk in silence for a minute, Suga fidgeting until she taps playfully on Daichi’s arm. “Out of bounds, maybe, but do you mind if I see?”

“See what?”

“Your friends raising hell on group. Mine are all out partying or sleeping. Iwazumi and Yachi are early risers, they’re already done for the day. My phone is a social wasteland right now.” A lie, but a soft one. It’s actually on silent and she has no idea if it’s actually been a quiet night, but she refuses to check and miss out on time spent with Daichi, who seems too perfect to be real.

“Oh, sure. They’re. Getting the wrong idea about us, probably, though.”

“And what’s the wrong idea?”

“That we just had a quickie, probably.”

“Hm,” she hums. “Well, forewarned is prepared.”

“Then have at it,” she says, unlocking and handing Suga her phone.

Suga laughs as she takes it. “You are an open book, Daichi. Which is hilarious, because you are also a mystery.”

“An enigma wrapped in a riddle,” Daichi deadpans. 

She snorts and scrolls through the most recent messages, getting to the new notifications and grinning. 

** ‘KuRude’ added ‘Koutarou Bokuto’ to the group. **

** ‘Koutarou Bokuto’ changed name to ‘fucked off D:’ **

** From: fucked off D:  **

** @volleyball is too spicy where are **

** help us EXcape **

** From: KuRude **

** listen daichi if ur getting some **

** one fckn congrats **

** two **

** fucking traitor we need u **

“This is us,” Daichi pulls her towards the car.

They duck in, Suga taking the passenger seat, and she laughs. “All pretty tame, but ‘volleyball is too spicy?’”

Daichi sighs and pulls out. “I don’t like spice. Can’t handle much of anything, honestly. They never let me live it down. Another one of those long-winded jokes, really,” she explains, flashing a grin. 

Suga smiles and taps her nails on the armrest to the beat of the radio. “Guess you’d hate eating with me. I live for spice. I’ve made Oikawa cry, once. It was beautiful.”

“No.”

“Yes. Really. I forgot to tell her what I was eating was spicy.”

“There’s more too it than that, right?” Daichi pulls up near the club’s entrance and texts Kuroo and Bokuto that they’re there.

A laugh bubbles up inside Suga’s chest. Daichi’s easy to be around. Even when she’s being shifty, it’s not really awkward. “Well, maybe. She kept saying she was hungry, so I made my dinner even spicier than usual — and I was on my period, so I’m feeling gross, and I always crave hot things anyway when I don’t feel good. I knew she’d try to steal some, but I’m not her mother and she should learn to ask. So I left it to get something out of my backpack, and the next thing I know, Oikawa’s tearing up and begging for milk.” She shrugs sweetly, innocently spreading her hands. 

Two guys, presumably Kuroo and Bokuto, fall gracelessly into the car. They’re familiar, in the way that most people on campus are to Suga. Volleyball players too, she thinks, which makes sense with their groupchat name.

“That’s evil,” Daichi snorts, turning to look at the guys in the back. “Guys, this is Suga, Suga, these are Bokuto and Kuroo.”

She waves as Daichi starts to drive. “Hello!”

Both of them stare for a second, blinking. Kuroo beams first, Bokuto joining shortly after. “Sugawara!” Kuroo nearly yells. Daichi blindly reaches into the backseat to smack at his head. “Sorry, Sawamura. But I’ve seen you around! You’re Kenma’s RA? Friends with the women’s volleyball and track teams?”

“Yep.”

“Nice,” Bokuto chimes in, “But what was so bad Sawamura’s calling it evil?”

Suga and Daichi snort in tandem. “Long story,” Suga says. Daichi hums in agreement. 

“Good night, ex aside?” Daichi asks. 

“Been too long since our last bro date. You should’ve drank with us.”

“Not that he, uhh. It’s good to meet you still, though, Suga,” Kuroo adds. Bokuto nods.

Daichi rolls her eyes. “Am I dropping you guys off at your apartment?”

They both chime in with affirmatives, and Suga starts tapping off the beat again, then humming along to the radio when the chatter from the backseat turns into a steady hum. She checks her messages, relaxing into her seat.

** From: Mulder **

** Hey love, be out l8, don’t wait up for me xoxo **

** From: Iwa **

** Knocking out for the night, just meet me @ the gym if yr still up for our run **

**. . . please still be on for our run **

** To: Iwa **

** Wouldn’t miss Sat workouts with you ;) **

Suga had told herself she’d stay out of it, but she also kind of wants to strangle Oikawa. How many times is she going to ignore how in love she is with Iwazumi? Or will she just keep being Oikawa, and Iwazumi will leave her to it, and they’ll both move on with their lives for good?

She shakes her head and refocuses, realizing she’s been singing under her breath as she read her messages. The car feels oddly off-balance once she does, though. 

“Why’d you stop?” Bokuto asks.

Kuroo must elbow him, because there’s a thud and a pained grunt. Then, “Stop that. I told you you’d be halfway to marrying her once you met her.”

Bokuto pouts, and Suga grins and winks at him. “Thanks, Kuroo. I didn’t realize we knew each other that well. When were you going to tell me about the engagement.”

Awkward silence, finally, for the first time all night. She looks over at Daichi, whose mouth is shaking from trying to flatten out a grin. Kuroo whines, high-pitched and long. 

“Sorry, Sugawara. You’re just kind and beautiful. And out of Bokuto’s league.”

Suga debates staying out of it, but she’s also a flirt sometimes, and nosy besides. She nudges Daichi lightly with her elbow, trying to pull her in on the joke as she teases Kuroo. “But not yours?”

“I’m mostly benched,” he answers cautiously.

When he doesn’t add anything else, Suga turns to smile at them. “Congratulations, then. If it helps, neither of you are exactly my type.” 

It’s more forward than she usually is, more vulnerable and honest. But something about the night, about being halfway to in love with a stranger, about meeting nice people and getting a cute girl’s phone number, have her feeling more brash than usual. She resolves herself to blaming it on Oikawa later. 

“Ohoho?” Bokuto puffs.

“It’s girls, isn’t it?” Kuroo monotones. 

“Bro, how do you always  _ do that _ ?”

“Bro, you don’t need a gaydar. You’re straight. Queers are penguins in the frozen tundra of life, dude.”

Suga laughs, delighted at their back and forth. Next to her, Daichi is grinning softly, face highlighted pale green and yellow from the dashboard and passing street lamps. “It’s okay, Bo,” she finally pipes up, “someone’s got to be the token straight friend around here.”

The rest of the car ride feels a little like switching up her workout routine: unfamiliar and perfect.

 


	2. Dates, Daichi, and Disasters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga wanted a nice evening with her maybe-girlfriend. Instead, she gets deeper into the endless drama of her best friends, and Daichi is outed to her parents.

“So what happened last night?” Suga asks, breathing through her nose and glancing out of the corner of her eye.

Iwa’s nose twitches and she looks like she wants to up their pace. Suga keeps serenely trotting next to her, hopping over a small puddle and immediately realizing that her muscles  _ really don’t want to do that _ . 

“If you can talk in a normal voice, you’re going too easy on yourself,” Iwa says levelly, like the hypocrite she is.

Suga spreads out her arms to either side and increases her stride. She’s got longer legs than Iwa and she’s ready to run her into exhausted distraction if need be. Iwa’s been moody lately—moodier than usual, sullen and less willing to fight about anything, just nodding and shrugging off conversation, face like an abandoned puppy with matted, spiky fur. Suga hates it. 

The air fills with the sound of their pants and the slow grumbling of the city coming to life around them as the sun brightens and finally starts to pump warmth into their frozen fingers.

They pause at a stop light and Suga squints at the cross streets. “Really, we’re already on Third? No wonder I feel like dying. I need to go to the bathroom.”

Iwazumi snorts. “I hate you.” 

“Yeah but,” Suga grins over at her, “How’re you supposed to tell me about your lovelorn depression if we can’t even talk about how much we have to poop when we run?”

“No.”

“Light’s green.” 

They jog in silence for another few minutes, until Iwazumi spots a park with swings and a basketball court and veers off the sidewalk. “Race you to the swings!” she shouts, breaking into a sprint. 

She beats Suga, who does a running jump onto the seat, flying into a high arc and swearing about how much of a  _ filthy cheater _ she is. It’s early enough and cold enough that the only sounds are the cars humming by on the road and the wind rattling the chains of the empty swings every now and then. Once she settles down, Suga idly kicks at the ground and waits for Iwazumi to talk. 

“I don’t know how to be me, sometimes.”

It’s not the opening gambit Suga was expecting. She’s never sure how to deal with other people’s feelings, and she isn’t sure what to say. But if she’s being honest with herself, it’s probably why Iwa is telling her this. They’re too alike for her to pretend to be anything other than herself. 

“Yeah,” she settles on.

“Like, I go home and I’m too masculine, but I’m here and I feel like a freak every time I try to be girly. I played softball, for God’s sake, I’m a walking stereotype sometimes of the freak butch that’s too gay to ever fit in. And Oikawa is so pretty, and confident, and fucking  _ annoying, _ oh my God. She’s always so loud about everything—aliens, and her sex life, and what she likes in girls.” Iwa angrily stares up at the sky like she’s keeping tears from dropping and Suga looks away, uncomfortable. “And it’s not me. It’s never going to be me.”

“Then it’s not you,” Suga says, when it’s obvious that she’s done speaking for the time being. “But for what it’s worth, I do think she likes you. She’s just an idiot child.” Iwa snorts at that, gaze lowering to stare off into the distance. Suga shifts to stand up, stretching out her legs while Iwa stares at her, a little listlessly. “And you’re plenty pretty. Handsome. You know. Attractive.”

“You talk to girls like that, Sugawara?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she says, starting to jog back towards the sidewalk, “You’re just jealous that I picked up a girl’s number last night while you were moping.”

Iwazumi squawks and speeds up to catch up to her. “Nice! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Suga just flips her off and keeps running.

~~~

The library lights started buzzing angrily at nine, after the sun had left her behind for different skies and Suga was lost in an essay.

That was thirty minutes ago, but Suga’s still unsure if it’s because of bugs trapped in the fixtures, or if they’ve been on too long and are finally starting to go bad. She’s staring up at one, gnawing softly on her favorite pencil, flashcards and laptop and books and highlighters and her binder spread over a four-person table, leg tucked up to wedge between her chest and the table. She’s finished her homework and is trying to survive the crush of studying for midterms when Oikawa drapes herself over the table, flopping her arms out over the books and grunting when a highlighter pokes her in the thigh. 

“You don’t call, you don’t write,” she whines. 

Suga throws the pencil at her. “I ate lunch with you, nerd.”

She scrunches her nose and squawks. The pencil bounces to the floor, and Suga laughs.

“And not dinner, don’t think I didn’t notice. You need to eat.”

“Don’t you need to go sleep? You’re a grandma about your bedtime, Kawa. You’ve got three games this week.”

“I’ve got a solid hour before lack of sleep kills me. You can pay attention to me for that long.”

“Iwa tuning you out again?” Suga asks flatly, picking up her phone. It’s been on silent, but there’s a text from a couple hours ago from Daichi. 

** From: Daichi **

** too weird to ask if you want to grab dinner? **

She groans and lets her head fall against her knee. Oikawa cuts off, mid-rant, to side eye her. “Oh? Ms. Refreshing is talking to someone more important than me?” She grabs Suga’s phone and beams. “You are! Or, well, someone other than me. Who is this?”

“I met her at the bar the other day. When we went together?”

“Right, right, right, you were. Somewhere. Things happened.” Oikawa nods like she’s got any idea of what happened besides her getting, by all accounts, spectacularly laid. 

“Give it back, I need to text her.”

Oikawa blinks, then sits up straight and nudges her with a shin. “Someone’s got a big ‘ole gay crush, humm?”

“Tooru Oikawa. You are aware that I am, in fact, a raging lesbian, right? Did that somehow not get through your miles of hairspray and makeup to bounce around in that tiny head of yours?”

She gasps and clutches her chest. “Mean, Sug, just mean. You sound like Iwa.” She pouts, and Suga rolls her eyes and grabs the phone back. 

** To: Daichi **

** I’m so so so sorry! I just now saw this. But yes. To any time. Well, not Wednesdays, because night class, and not. Well. I’ve got duty and can’t leave my building this weekend but. If it’s still on the table, yes. **

Oikawa snorts when she grabs the phone back to read her message.

“Hajime, who is also a lesbian,” Suga points out, pulling her attention back to their conversation. 

“Right, but like. I’ve known her forever. I’ve known her girlfriends.”

She squints up at Oikawa, who’s scrolling through Suga’s recent text messages. Nosy. “Doesn’t that get awkward? Painful?”

“Knowing Iwazumi? Constantly.”

“Being in love with each other but seeing other people.”

Well. That came out more bluntly than expected. But she’s a believer in being straightforward. She suspects it’s why Oikawa keeps her around. 

“I am not!” Oikawa shrills.

“Hilarious. It’s commitment you don’t like, not Iwazumi.”

She clears her throat and gives Suga the phone again. “She texted back. And there’s nothing. Nothing to do about it. We’re happier this way.”   
“So you’ve tried?” she asks, tapping at Daichi’s message.

** From: Daichi **

** Absolutely. Dinner tomorrow? There’s a great place down the street that I’ve heard has good spicy food. **

** To:Daichi **

** @6?  **

** From: Daichi **

** 7 work? It’s late, but I’ve got practice. Can pick you up tho **

** To: Daichi **

** Absolutely! Sounds like a date. **

** From: Daichi **

** Hoping so **

Suga blushes and leans against Oikawa, thrusting her phone up for her to read.

“Ohhh, nice. She sounds cute. Got yourself an athlete, nice. What sport does she play?”

“Not entirely sure? She said volleyball, but then acted weird about it.”

“She’s not on my team. Intramurals, maybe. And you’re sure she’s not a murderer?”

“I met her friends, and they seemed nice, too. I trust her enough.”

She nods, but looks pensive pensive. “It’s not that we’ve tried.”

“You and Hajime?”

She nods. “Yeah. It’s just. People break up all the time. Especially — well, first loves never last, do they? So I didn’t want us to break up and ruin our friendship. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want to lose her just because I want to kiss her stupid face sometimes,” she says, grinning at the end. It’s still a pretty sad face, though. 

Suga punches her in the arm. “Ridiculous. Talk to her. You two can figure out if you want a relationship or not together. The pining is getting out of hand though.”

She rolls her eyes, picks up a stack of flashcards, and starts quizzing herself. 

Above her, Oikawa lets out a huff and shakes out her hair. She starts to braid it slowly, giving herself something to do. 

Oikawa has finally gotten bored and started to saunter away when Suga’s phone lights up.

** From: Iwa **

** You didn’t talk to Kawa, right? She’s being weird. **

** Right? **

“You’ve been texting Hajime, haven’t you?”

“We’re best friends,” she says, splaying a hand over her heart. “Of course I’ve been texting her. I have to make up for how awkward you are at texting cute girls.”

Suga snorts and goes back to her books. “Whatever. Just help me pick out my outfit tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t miss it!”

~~~

Dinner with Daichi is comfortable. 

Suga thinks about the times in the past she’s been on dates, times she’s played with the idea of trying to get serious with someone. She’d always thought that there weren’t enough butterflies or sparks or whatever was supposed to happen in life-changing romances.

But this. Oh, this feels mundane. Like she’s known Daichi half her life.  _ Easy _ . 

Well, easy except for the part where Daichi is wearing a black dress with red and blue flowers that show off her toned arms once she shrugs off her coat and cardigan. That part has Suga’s brain buffering, trying to remember topics of conversation that aren’t “bed,” and “you and my tongue should get acquainted,” which isn’t a helpful subject on the first date. 

She feels half slapped in the face with the realization that everything is going extraordinarily well because nothing feels out of place. It’s new, but not unsettling. She smiles as Daichi eats at least a fourth of her weight in chicken, eggs, and rice. There’s sauce in there, and vegetables, Suga’s sure, but if it’s not spicy it’s not really worth her time, so she’d taken half a bite off Daichi’s plate and retreated back to her own. 

Daichi had vehemently refused to try anything off of Suga’s plate after smelling it. “It’s like you don’t want me to be able to use my tongue,” she’d rasped. Her eyes went wide and her face violently red when Suga had wheezed from laughter. “Not like that! I’m-”

Suga waved her off. “I’m okay with any way you meant it.”

“Oh, good. That’s good.” Daichi nods and goes back to eating, blushing furiously. 

They sit in silence for a while, Suga grinning softly, happy to let the quiet happen. It’s nice when Daichi looks at her phone and snorts, though. “The groupchat is asking about you.”

“The friend one?”   
“Another one. There’s a lot of overlap, though,” she rushes to tack on. “And they like to embarrass me with as much of an audience as possible.”   
“Am I embarrassing to you?” Suga asks. She has never claimed to be the nicest person. 

Daichi makes a whistling-teakettle sound. It’s as adorable as it is alarming. “No! No, no, not at all. I was just excited to go on a date with you,” she assures her. “I was embarrassing myself I asked their advice on what to wear.”

“Consider me charmed then.”

“So Daichi.”

“Suga.”

“Are you, uh. Out to everyone?”   
Daichi tilts her head in consideration, fork halfway to her mouth. She lowers the bite but doesn’t let go and blinks. “About being a girl, or about liking girls?”

“Either, I guess.”

Daichi smiles, and whatever tension had crept up dissipates. “Yeah, I mean, to a lot of people. Not everyone. Not my parents, but my little sister knows, and my teammates and friends. It’s not official, but I’m also not dying to change my name and gender until I graduate. I figure I can just have a fresh start somewhere where everyone knows me as me. Plus, it’s a pain to get professors to change your name if they already know you.”

Suga nods. “So you are on the volleyball team?”

“The men’s one, yeah.”

“That does explain why I didn’t know you.”

“Not enough eye candy?”

“Well,” she says, fidgeting with her straw and glancing up at Daichi, “there certainly is now.”

Daichi’s cheeks warm up until she frowns and her eyes cut down to where Suga’s phone is buzzing against the table. “You’re phone is ringing.”

She pushes the lock button, cutting off the sound, until it starts ringing again. “Uh,” Daichi says, hesitant. “Is that your mom? Shouldn’t you answer that?”

“No. That’s not gonna happen while I’m on a date.”

Daichi grinds, and it makes Suga grin back. “She knows about me. And I’ll tell her about it later if she wants to know. But usually she just wants to talk.” Daichi’s face looks happy but a little wistful, too.

“Dessert?” the waitress asks, interrupting whatever Daichi was about to say.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Suga tells her, smiling and stealing the check before Daichi can grab it. 

A better idea turns out to be a pack of oreos, a pint of ice cream, and a blanket fort in her room, her laptop turned on to an old Indiana Jones movie. Daichi makes fun of her playfully, but keeps stealing glances and grinning, nudging her in the side during the funny parts while Suga keeps up a running commentary. She’s glad Daichi doesn’t mind the chatter, even if the subtitles are on. When Daichi sees Kenma on her way out, Kenma rolls his eyes and Daichi shrugs.

The outfit she and Oikawa had worked so hard on is rumpled, now, from sitting on the floor curled up under blankets, and her mascara had smudged at some point and Daichi hadn’t bothered to tell her, but all told, it’s nice. It’s been good. She sends Oikawa a thumbs up emoji and pulls out a textbook to get some extra studying in. It never hurts to try to not fail out of college, she guesses, and she’s got some time before her morning workout will suffer from lack of sleep. She’s wired, now, still floating inside from the way Daichi had unexpectedly burst into laughter every once in a while when Suga had made a vicious comment at the movie, and when she’d split the last cookie with her. 

Suga’s surprised, then, when she gets a call the next afternoon when she’s walking back from class. Daichi’s name and a star emoji shine up at her, and she hesitates for a moment before picking up. It’s not that they don’t talk, it’s just that they’ve been mostly texting, and not during the day. Too much to do to keep up a conversation. 

“Daichi?”

“Suga, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t sure . . . who to call,” she starts, voice trembling. 

“Okay,” she says, stopping halfway across the quad. She steps into the grass when she almost gets run over by a kid on a bike—which, rude—and thinks. “What’s wrong?”

Daichi sniffs, clears her throat. “I was talking to my sister. And I didn’t realize I was on speaker. I don’t think she knew my parents were home, either, which is weird, but she’s been sick, and so she called because she thought she was alone and she got bored and I had time.”

Suga takes a deep breath and stays where she is. It’s going to be one of those times, and she’s not sure if Daichi will want company, or will want to be somewhere else, or to be alone. Iwazumi had spent an entire summer being a clingy mess in Suga’s apartment when her parents had kicked her out after she’d cut her hair and come out to them. She’d been like a cat, around Suga whenever she could be but finicky, not wanting to talk. Yachi had come out as bi, her family had barely reacted, her best friend had been rude, and they’d all gone out for drinks. It varied. “Okay,” she says again, because she’s here and she’s not sure what else to say. She waits until it’s clear Daichi isn’t sure what to say either, and then keeps continues.

“So I can come over. I’ve got the time, and leftover ice cream in my fridge if you want me to bring it. You can come over to mine, if you want. Or we can go get some coffee, get away from campus, be somewhere else for a while.” She keeps her voice steady and even, not emphasizing any option or focusing on anything too specific. Daichi can choose, and she’ll be here waiting for her. “Whatever you want. Or you can stay on the phone and decide in a little bit, it’s okay. I’ll be here no matter what.”

A sob shivers over the line, then another. A gasp, like Daichi is trying to breathe. “The coffee. I want. To not be here. We should . . . I need to get myself together.”

“I can be over in ten minutes,” Suga tells her. “But you don’t need to pull yourself together, or anything like that. It’s okay, either way.”

Daichi sniffs. “No, I want. I want to get dressed. Not in this.”

“You want me to keep talking?” Suga asks, finally making her way to her dorm. No sense in taking her backpack with her, and it’s close by the lot where she parks her car. Daichi seems like she needs the time, anyway.

Silence. Then, quietly, “Yes, please.”   
“Okay. I was thinking we could actually go to that tea place. I’ve only ever been with Iwazumi, and she pretended to hate it, but she goes there with Oikawa all the time.” She pauses to give a light laugh. “Then again, she’d do anything for her. Tooru’s an idiot. She needs to get it together. Iwa’s going to move on sooner or later.”

“Were you ever, uh.” Daichi’s shuffling around, probably getting ready and putting her on speaker to do it, judging by the grainy sound quality, but she stills when she asks her half-question.

“With either of them?” Suga fills in, and hums. “I hooked up with Oikawa once. It was fine. I mean, great sex,” she says, and nods at a friend passing by. “But it wasn’t us, you know? Like, I love Oikawa, I just never want to sleep with her again. And Iwazumi is hot. Like, have you seen her? Oikawa and I actually ended up talking about her after that night. So that was kind of weird. But she’s into Oikawa, and also I learned my lesson with Oikawa: don’t hook up with your friends just because they’re hot and single if you aren’t actually interested in them in any way but platonically. Oikawa still makes fun of my O-face and I still hit her every time she talks about her sex life because I can picture it too well.”

She stops to unlock her door and realizes that she’s probably been too honest with a girl she’s just started dating. But Daichi finally gives a laugh, even if it does sound thick and rough. “That’s good to know. It makes sense. And Oikawa is hot.”

“Oh, definitely,” Suga agrees absentmindedly, digging around for her wallet and keys before turning back around to head out. “If you’re into flighty and ditzy and competitive. I’m not. Well, not the first two. I’m heading out, I’ll drive over to pick you up if that’s cool.”

“Yeah,” Daichi says. “I’m just putting on some foundation. My skin is splotchy.”

Suga nods. “Take your time. I’m here when you need me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Daichi tells her quietly, “I know you barely know me, and this is a lot, I just really wasn’t sure what to do.”

“It’s fine. We’ve all needed someone like this. And besides, I really like you. Is this helping any?”

“Yeah,” Daichi says, and they lapse into a comfortable quiet for a while. Suga finally speaks up to tell her she’s parked outside, but to take as long as she needs. “Okay,” Daichi says, clearing her throat. “Okay, I’m heading down, then. I’m sorry.”

Suga doesn’t bother responding, just hums. True to her word, Daichi slides into her car a second later, tissue in hand, looking worse for wear. She smiles like she’s trying to be fine, and while Suga isn’t one to initiate physical contact, she reaches over to hug her before putting the car in reverse. “So what happened?”

Daichi stares listlessly out the window for a moment. “I don’t know. One minute, I’m talking to Ann about her schoolwork, and she asks me about college, and I tell her about you, and she’s . . . I don’t know, she asked me what I wore on our date, and I told her and then we talk about something else for a couple minutes until she tells me she has to go really urgently. So I hang up, because she’s sick and maybe she’s throwing up or something. And then she calls me back a while later and she’s obviously upset and I’m getting worried about her and she just keeps apologizing and I don’t know what’s happening and then she tells me that our dad was standing in the doorway and that he’s going to tell Mom, which he will, and they’re not. They weren’t supposed to know yet.”

Suga makes a wrong turn on purpose and commits to driving the long way to get tea. “So your dad’s telling your mom,” she says after a pause.

Daichi takes a deep breath. “The tea shop is back that way,” she says. 

“Talking while driving is soothing. This isn’t my first rodeo, Sawamura.”

That makes her laugh. “Alright, alright. But really, it’s fine. I’m done crying about it.” Suga dutifully makes the U-turn and gets back on track. “But my sister talked about it like they were mad. And I feel bad that I put her in that position. That she knows and didn’t tell my parents, and now they’ll be mad at her, too.”

“Maybe,” Suga agrees, because really, what does she know about this. “So what does that mean for you now?”

Daichi nods, jaw tight. “I should call my parents later. See what they say.”

She doesn’t want to pry, but it needs to be asked. “What do you think they’ll say?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure if it’s just going to be that I’m making a mistake, or they don’t believe me, or I’m disowned. I really just don’t . . . have any idea.”   
“You want to not think about it over tea?”

Daichi lets out a long breath. “I’d love that, Suga. You can tell me all about that weird story with the six-pack and the feather boa that you started to tell me about last night.”

“Miss Daichi, this sounds like a date.”

“Is it a date if I only know your last name?”

Suga looks at her, charmed and surprised. “You don’t know it?” She  _ hmfs _ when Daichi shakes her head. “That’s fair. It’s Koushi, but no one ever gets it right, and I like Suga better anyway. So don’t get any ideas.”

Daichi raises her hands defensively. “I wouldn’t dream of it, I promise.”


	3. Meddling Friends, Mending Dinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga and Daichi have an important conversation, dinner, and tea. Not necessarily in that order.

Daichi bounces on the balls of her feet, yelling something. It makes sense to someone, since Kenma tilts his head a split second before jumping, his back a deep curve. Bokuto and Kuroo both jump, Kuroo in the middle and Bokuto just to the outside of the net. In the back, Daichi jumps too, and the ball slams off her hand, dropping gently just beyond where the other team’s libero can reach, a slick squeal from his body sliding over the hardwood hiding the sound. A whistle blows. 

Daichi wipes the sweat off her forehead with the collar of her shirt and grins as Kuroo slaps her on the back. The team trickles off the court and into the locker room. 

Next to Suga, Oikawa is grumbling something about the other team’s lineup. She rolls her eyes and grins at Daichi before tuning back into Oikawa’s rant, just in time for Oikawa to squint at her. 

“Are her parents here? When are you meeting her parents?”

Suga hums. Once Daichi had told her she’d like her to come to her game and didn’t mind if she brought Oikawa along, didn’t mind if she knew, Suga had texted Oikawa to drag her along. Oikawa had just asked who knew and which pronouns to use when. Suga had internally vowed to die for Oikawa at any time. She shrugs. “I doubt they’re coming, since they just found out and didn’t seem too thrilled about it. 

Behind them, one of the parents is complaining about her son’s lack of court time. Her husband is grumbling along. Suga is once again glad that Oikawa plays volleyball too, and knows better than to say Daichi’s name out loud. Volleyball parents were their own kind of obnoxious, overly-invested gossips. 

Oikawa rolls her eyes at Suga at their chatter. “It’s televised,” she says after a beat. “They should be here. It’s kind of a big deal.”

Suga doesn’t disagree, she also just doesn’t think that Daichi would be thrilled if she showed up to her parents’ house and punched one or both of them.

“Anyways, we’ll have to kidnap her and take her to dinner. Does she like Mediterranean? There’s a new place on 11th with mixed drinks and falafel.”

“Sure, I’m sure she does. Iwa should be off work by then. Text her for me?”

Oikawa nods, phone already out, a grin tucked into the corners of her mouth. “Sure, sure, leave me to do all the work here.”

“Uh-huh. Are you two dating yet?”

She almost drops her phone, eyes snapping up and cheeks flushing. “Fuck off.”

Suga shrugs. “Well, you could always just ask her out.”

“ . . . I will, soon,” Oikawa says, pouting. 

Suga punches her in the arm. “Damn right. You’ve both been pining for years.”

“I didn’t know she was gay!”

“Turoo,” Suga tells her gravely, “she’s on the fucking softball team.”

Oikawa just sighs and sends her text, shoulders settled in a miserable, drooping line. “I know. How could I have missed that?”

Daichi trots up the them, her hair still a bit sweaty at the temples but changed into sweatpants and a jacket. Suga smiles at her and leans in to kiss her on the cheek. “You played well.”

“We’re kidnapping you, Sawamura. You can bring friends if you want. I’m drinking. We’re eating.”

She grins a little uncertainly, glancing at Suga for confirmation, or maybe support. Suga raises her eyebrows until Daichi smiles and nods. “Okay. Where to?”

“What’s the point of a kidnapping if you know? Iwa’s driving.”

Oikawa flips her hair over her shoulder and grins in a way that feels halfway feral. Suga wanders out of the gym, not stopping to make sure they’re following her until they get outside and Daichi calls out for Kuroo to wait. She leans into Oikawa’s shoulder as Daichi jogs over to invite Kuroo and Kenma to dinner with them. 

It’s dumb, she knows but this feels right. Like it’s a scene from their future, with their friends, and hectic schedules, and Thursday night dinner. Something about the way she’s feeling must show on her face, because Oikawa pokes her in the side and asks her what she’s thinking about with a lascivious wiggle of her eyebrows.

Suga punches her and walks over to where the others are talking. 

\----

Dinner goes well. Oikawa gets less drunk than Suga had expected, and then cuddled up to Iwa like a separation-anxiety fueled shadow, which she did anticipate. Suga had mocked them mercilessly while Kenma’s mouth flickered in and out of a grin, his focus mostly on his phone unless Daichi or Kuroo goaded him into snapping at them. 

So all in all, by the time they get back to Daichi’s apartment, Suga feels good. Warm. Daichi smiles at her as she unlocks the door. “You sure you want to come over? My place is a disaster.”

“I do room inspections,” Suga snorts. “You can’t be any worse than the gremlins that I’ve seen in my hall. Don’t worry about it.”

Daichi shrugs and flicks on the lights. “Then you can’t say I didn’t warn you. You want anything to drink? I’ve got beer in the fridge, tea stuff is . . . around here?” She trails off, unsure. 

“I can make us some tea, if you want to change and shower. We did kidnap you before you could do much of anything.”

She blushes a furious red. “Oh god, I almost forgot about that. I smell so bad.”

Suga laughs. “Don’t worry about it. You smell fine. Sweaty, but still fine. But it’s probably not comfortable.”

“Well now that you mention it, no, it’s not,” Daichi groans. “I’ll just . . . go shower? Is that okay?”   
  


Suga waves her off with an absent hand. “I won’t burn down your kitchen and I’ll make some tea while you’re gone. You want any?”

Daichi shakes her head, already halfway to the bathroom. “I’m okay, but thank you! Just make yourself comfortable. My bedroom is the farthest door, right over there.”

Suga hums to herself while she hunts down the kettle (it’s a whistling one, and she tries not to be charmed), hopes that Daichi’s roommate isn’t here (she doesn’t think so, but people are weird and she has no hope for them), and skims through the pantry for tea to drink. Mug and tea bag set out, she wanders over to the living room to poke at Daichi’s (and her roommate’s) stuff. There are less pictures than she expected, really, but a bunch of sci-fi books, knick-knacks, highlighters and pens dotting the end tables, old notes shuffled under a textbook and someone’s water bottle. The water in the bathroom tapers off, and the kettle is whistling by the time she finishes her lap around the apartment’s open spaces. She turns off the stove, moves the kettle, and leaves the rest for later.

Footsteps move and scuff over hardwood in the background, and she checks her phone to kill some time. Finally, Daichi timidly yells her name. Suga makes her way back to Daichi’s room, the door open and spilling out soft amber light from a lamp. Daichi puts her towel on a rack and smiles at her, nearly collapsing onto the bed. She pulls out her phone for a second, scoffing at the messages from her group chat. 

**From: KuRude**

**did you all know that daichi has a gf**

**From: would die for at least 3 pokemon**

**pls tell me you’re not going to blow up my phone with gossip again**

**From: actually edward elric**

**What???**

**From: would die for at least 3 pokemon**

**yeah daichi has a gf. she’s better than almost any of you**

“Sorry for taking so much time. It feels better to be clean, though.” Daichi rolls her eyes and looks up for a second to flash her phone screen at Suga. “Kenma is defending your honor in the group though, if that helps.”

Suga tilts her head, reading the messages even as more roll in.”

**From:KuRude**

**I’m just curious kenma when’re you gonna love me as much as you love hinata i just want to know**

**From: fucked off D:**

**It’s not possible bro, just accept it. Their love transcends the love of us. It’s a weird kind of bromance.**

**From: would die for at least 3 pokemon**

**. . . i’m leaving forever goodbye**

**From: actually edward elric**

**°(ಗдಗ。)°.**

**But also Who Is She???**

**From KuRude:**

**A Goddess, bro**

Suga snorts and flops down onto Daichi’s chest, and Daichi  _ oofs _ but doesn’t look upset, just drops her phone to the side and wraps her arms around Suga’s waist with a pleased smile.

She pokes her in the side, fast and sharp between the ribs. “So we’re dating.”

“Yes. Did you want a kiss?” She looks nonplussed, tilting her head just so, a little more towards Suga, who laughs delightedly.

“Always,” she chirps, pecking her on the mouth before settling back on her chest. “But that’s not the point. The point is sex.”

Daichi puts down her phone. “Okay?”

“We’re gonna have it sometime, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I’d like that.” She’s horribly off-kilter, and Suga beams at how adorable that is.

Daichi kind of blames Oikawa for her look of sadistic glee, but she’s also a little scared to say that out loud. Oikawa seems like she’s a bad influence in Suga’s life most of the time. It feels like a safe assumption.

“Cool. So I was thinking that we’re going to need to talk about what you’re comfortable with. You’ve had sex before, right?”

She nods, then swallows when her throat feels tight.

Suga grins softly and continues. “So you probably have an idea of what you like. Are blowjobs on the table?”

Daichi squawks. Suga keeps looking at her expectantly, though, so she nods, blushing.

“Great. Do you like being eaten out too?”

“What.”

It doesn’t even come out as a question. She’d asked so bluntly that Daichi feels out of her depth. 

“I mean, where are you comfortable with me putting my mouth? Is there anything that’s, like, common that you don’t want?”

Daichi clears her throat. A small part of her wants to curl up and die, but she’s always felt like that when it comes to sex. Or her body. Or . . . a lot of things, but she’s usually better at covering it up. “Uh, well. We could make out for a while, and I can let you know if I don’t like something?”

“Excellent,” Suga says, and kisses her on the nose. “We can do whatever you want, as little or as much as you want.”

“Well, when you say it like that,” Daichi grouches, “I feel like I’m making up a schedule.”

“You are, just in slow motion.”

Daichi rolls her eyes. “No sex tonight?”

“That sounds lovely, Miss Sawamura. Anything else?”

“Yes. You should kiss me now.”

Suga kisses her softly. “That, I can do.” She bites Daichi’s lip, pulling it back slowly. She lets it go and kisses her chastely again. “And you’ll tell me what you like?”

“Deal, Sugawara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk y'all, I haven't forgotten about this, but I did stall out for a little bit. Also, school is killing me dead, so if you're still reading this . . .cheers. I'll keep working on it when I can.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no real deadline in mind for the next chapter, fair warning, but it's mostly written, so it does Exist, I promise.


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